Truth or Dare: Gryffindor Style
by William Wolfe
Summary: After a huge party marking their victory of the Quidditch Cup, the Gryffindors, led by Fred and George, enjoy a game of Truth or Dare! What kind of havoc will ensue with the twins, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Percy, Oliver, Neville, and others tonight?


DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters mentioned in this fanfiction, nor do I own anything mentioned from the Harry Potter universe, including sports or Houses. Please, stop plagiarism.

WARNING: This fic contains minor slash, meaning same sex intimacy, so if you don't like it or don't feel comfortable with it, please don't read. While there isn't too much of it in this particular fic, I've become alarmingly aware of people who have problems with it, so suffice it to say: I don't mind criticism. In fact, please feel free to do so, but I will not tolerate any flames made in ignorance or intolerance.

**TRUTH OR DARE: GRYFFINDOR STYLE**

****

"Come on, Harry, have another butterbeer!"

"_We are the champions--hic-- my friends..."_

"Oy, Wood, tell us again about what happened during your first game! You got knocked out, right?"

"Care for some chocolate, Katie? Or maybe a jam tart? Nipped them from the kitchens meself..."

"And what did you do to them, George? Hex them or something?"

"_--Til the end... We are the champions, We are -hic- the champions..."_

Harry Potter couldn't help but grin as he looked around the room, smiles on every one of those exuberant faces as they reminisced about the match earlier today, about student gossip, and about life at Hogwarts itself. A fire was crackling happily in the large fireplace of the Gryffindor common room, bathing the room and its inhabitants in a warm, flickering light that gleamed against the gold ornaments and the red paint on the walls and illuminating a giant, red banner on the ceiling which read _Lions for the Cup._ Of course, today had been a glorious day for the House of Godric Gryffindor; the red-clad Quidditch team had finally won the Cup after years of humiliating defeat. With one almighty sweep of his hand, Harry himself had sealed his teammates' names on that glimmering trophy, with that little, winged ball clutched in his palm to thank. As of now, the clock had just struck half past midnight, and the party continued going on with no signs of stopping anytime soon. A pint of butterbeer in one hand and a slab of chocolate in the other, the young Seeker couldn't help but feel contented as his eyes skimmed over everyone in the room.

Fred Weasley, Oliver Wood, and Angelina Johnson, all in extremely high spirits and dressed in red and gold, were surrounded by a circle of rapt first-years, who stared at the three with wide eyes as they explained all the past matches they had played in. From the contented look in Oliver's eyes as he explained his first match, when a Bludger knocked him out for a week, he couldn't have been more satisfied. That was understandable though, considering as how he had been trying since he gained his Captaincy to win the Interhouse Quidditch Cup, only to have it taken away from him every year by the Slytherins or the Ravenclaws or by some monster-wielding maniac. This was his moment though, and his chocolate-colored eyes glimmered as he regaled the young students with tales of past Keeper glory.

Somewhere else, George Weasley was attempting, or failing that is, to woo Katie Bell, who merely scoffed at the pastries and other sweets he offered her. As Harry took a swig of his butterbeer, he spluttered as he caught a snippet of their conversation.

"You know, Katie, you're looking a wee bit peckish, why don't you have a little piece of chocolate? A bite of pastry," George asked with a poor mask of concern, before dropping it as he said, "Maybe, a nibble of this?" He proceeded to pucker his lips towards the Gryffindor Chaser.

"How about a little bit of this," she quickly answered, grabbing the piece of chocolate he held in his hands, and stuffing it down his trousers, "Warm enough for you, Weasley?" She sat herself down in an open chair, looking at George with an amused glow in her eye, which, if Harry didn't know better, he would have guessed was attraction.

The Beater gasped and then smiled as he whimpered breathily and reluctantly retrieved the chocolate, "Katie Bell just shoved something down my pants... Katie Bell touched me... Katie Bell touched my pants... I'm in heaven..."

Harry allowed his gaze to wander around the common room once more, noticing Hermione Granger as she spoke with Ginny Weasley near the steps to the girls' dormitory. _That's good, _Harry thought to himself as he looked over the bushy-haired bookworm, _She's not working tonight, just having fun like everyone else. Good for her._ His gaze then shifted to Ginny, her flaming, red hair and icy, blue eyes the exact same as her brothers' as she talked with Hermione. _She's actually really pretty, _Harry told himself as he looked over Ginny's kind face, still painted half-red and half-gold from the match, _I remember when I met her last year. She was so withdrawn and shy. Now, she's talking and laughing and... just, wow. _Suddenly, the young Gryffindor caught his gaze and smiled sweetly, causing Harry's face to immediately blush as he looked away towards a more entertaining distraction.

Neville Longbottom, usually a very quiet, anxious, and clumsy boy, was now standing on the arm of a soft, bloodred couch, drunkenly singing _We Are The Champions_ as he teetered over the gathered, cheering crowd. Harry choked back a laugh at the sight of him. As he struggled to keep his balance and his melody while keeping the two mugs of butterbeer in hand, Neville looked like a huge bat as his black robes swung around him, as did the red and gold Gryffindor tie he had knotted around his forehead. His face, splotched with chocolate and powdered sugar, was curled in a wild grin as he now began singing his slurred rendition of _We Will Rock You, _complete with stomping and clinking glasses, with much encouragement from Dean, Seamus, Ron, and many other Gryffindor boys.

Stopping his singing for a moment, he shouted to the assembled students, "Well, I thin' we need ta toas' the team on' more! Ta Gry... Gryff... Gra... Er... Ta ya red blokes! 'Grats!" Met with another affirmatory shout from his fellow Gryffindors, many of them laughing and cheering him on, Neville looked over to Harry before singing his own version of _Danny Boy:_

"_Oh, Harry boy -hic-- the Snitch, the Snitch is flyin'!_

_From end to -hic- end, and 'round the Quidditch Pitch!_

_If Slyth'rin won, you -hic- know we'd all be cryin'!_

_But you showed Snape, that filthy, greasy bi--ahhh!"_

Falling backwards into the softness of the red sofa with a slurred holler, he was immediately helped up by several girls, who hung off his arms with impressed smiles on their faces, as he drank his butterbeer, which hadn't spilt even after the lengthy fall. Harry was one of the loudest to applaud after Neville's drunken chorale, and grinned as the boy lifted his glass to the Seeker before turning his eye once more to the ladies around him. _Thanks a lot, Neville, _Harry thought graciously, _Thanks a lot._

Looking around the room once again, Harry managed to spot Ron Weasley, his best friend and partner in crime, his red hair matching the scarlet wall behind him as he spoke, rather enthusiastically, with Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas, and, surprisingly, Alicia Spinnet, another Gryffindor Chaser. Wondering as to what the devil those four could be talking about, a knowing glow rose in Harry's eyes as he saw Ron squeeze an imaginary pair of breasts on Seamus's body, appearing to squeal with laughter after doing so and his ears becoming slightly redder. To the Seeker's amusement however, Alicia lightly slapped the Weasley's face, a grin of her own crossing her visage as she wagged an amused, warning finger under his eyes. The group of them started laughing once more and fell back into the increasingly raunchy conversation as Seamus pumped his fist up and down in the air, an ecstatic look on his red-painted face.

A red-faced Harry, diverting his gaze and attention from Ron, Seamus, and the others, allowed his eyes to wander once again until they fell upon the grand, silver Hogwarts Quidditch Cup. Shimmering in a glistening glow as it reflected the flickering flames of the crackling fire, the huge Cup stood not only a tribute to Oliver Wood and the Gryffindor team, who had put their sweat and blood into becoming the most skilled team the wizarding school had ever seen, but as a standing reminder to Gryffindors for years to come that bravery and perseverance can overcome all, even those cheating, cowardly Slytherins. _Or something to that effect, _Harry thought as he raised his tankard of butterbeer to the glory of Gryffindor, _Cheers._

----------

Before long, with the Gryffindors in high spirits fueled by victory and constant pints of butterbeer, midnight swiftly turned to one, so that by one-thirty, nearly everyone in the common room had gone to sleep, their hearts contented and bellies full. The fire that had been burning had died down to low-burning flames over orange embers, casting a dying glow upon the discarded tankards and bottles that littered the carpet in front of the golden fireplace. Plates of half-eaten chocolate, pastries, cookies, and other foods were strewn about the room, making Hermione cringe with disgust as she magicked a melted piece of chocolate off her Arithmancy textbook.

"Honestly," she said, her face contorted with mixed rage and annoyance, "how can people be so filthy!? _Evanesco."_ The melted chocolate disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Alicia, who had been sitting against a wall to get the feeling back in her feet, replied, "Why don't you ask Ron or Seamus? I'm sure they know plenty about filth."

Harry, who had been sipping at another tankard of butterbeer, spluttered a bit as he heard Alicia's statement, the suggestive actions of his two roommates popping into his mind. Fred, sitting on top of a table next to the seated Seeker, smacked him hard on the back, causing him to cough even more as a spray of the drink left his mouth and covered the floor. His last few coughs escaping, he turned to Fred and muttered sarcastically, "Wow, Fred. Thanks, that really helped."

"Any time, Harry," he answered, slapping Harry even harder for good measure.

As the novelty of Harry spitting a torrent of butterbeer slowly whittled away into the silence, the remaining Gryffindors, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Angelina, Alicia, Katie, Fred, George, Oliver, Ginny, and Neville, just stared at each other, their faces blank. That is, except for Neville, who couldn't wipe the smile from his face as he held another full tankard of butterbeer.

Katie was the one to break the silence, "What do you guys want to do? I'm not tired yet." She added, without looking, as George tried to sidle up next to her, "Besides _that_." Looking slightly crestfallen, the Weasley returned to his seat and was silent.

"How about Truth or Dare," Ginny asked, perking up as she looked around the room.

For a moment, it was quiet as everyone contemplated playing the game, until Fred and George answered simultaneously, "We're in."

"Us, too," the three Chasers added, shrugging their shoulders at the thought of playing a "harmless" game.

Oliver, his face rather indifferent, said, "Sure, why not? I've got nothing better to do."

Hermione, slamming her Arithmancy book down on the table, turned and faced the rest of them, an uncharacteristically roguish smile on her face, "Definitely."

"Great, I'll -hic- play," Neville said with a wide, toothy grin. Apparently, the butterbeer hadn't lost its buzz just yet.

Ron, however, asked with a narrowed glare, "I don't know. I mean, with Ginny, Fred, and George, I know something bad is bound to happen. Do I really want to put myself in this position?"

_Wow, for once he uses his head, _Harry thought before he could stop himself and ventured a looked over to Ginny, a warm feeling pooling in his stomach as he said, "Sure."

"I'll play, too," came a voice from the stairway leading to the boys' dormitory, causing everyone's heads to turn and their jaws drop when they saw who it was: Percy Weasley, Head Boy and resident goody-goody of Gryffindor. Dressed in a Gryffindor t-shirt, red and white-striped pajama bottoms that reached to just above his ankles, and his horn-rimmed glasses, he looked as if he had just come from bed when he continued, "Like Oliver said, I've got nothing better to do. I can't get to sleep because of Geoff's snoring and Rhyss's mumbling, so what the hell?"

Ron, turning back to face his sister, decided, "Okay, if Percy's in, so am I."

Fred and George glanced at each other as if Christmas had come early. Fred quickly exclaimed, "Oh, wait! I've got something up in the dorm that'll make this game so much more fun! Just one sec!" Darting up the stairs to the boys' dormitories, the others, excluding George, were left to look at each other in wonder. They didn't have to wait long though, as Fred returned, a sizeable, glass vial in his hands.

"What's that," Ron asked as he stared at what looked like water inside the vial.

However, Percy, with a warning glare in his eyes, added, "That had better not be what I think it is, Fred."

"What," he replied, a mask of innocence on his face, "What's a game of Truth or Dare among wizards if there isn't any truth serum?"

Hermione, rage in her voice as well, supported Percy, "That's not just any truth serum. It's Veritaserum and it's illegal in the hands of a student. Do you have any idea why?"

"Because three drops of it on your tongue and you start spilling your deepest, darkest secrets for everyone to hear," Fred answered simply. Hermione was stunned by the rare straight-forwardness of his answer as he continued, "But I'm not saying that we have to take three drops. One will suffice."

Percy, in disbelief, spat, "Fred, you can't possibly be thinking about using that. If McGonagall found out... Do you have any... I'm _Head Boy_... Your own brother... I can't believe you."

"Believe it, but how is McGonagall going to find out, Percy," Fred asked quizzically, his voice in an unfamiliar, calculating tone, "I'm not going to tell her. Are you, George?"

The other Weasley twin responded, "Not at all, Fred."

"What about you, Wood?"

"I won't tell anyone," Oliver answered, but gave his Beater his own, warning look, "but don't involve me in your family squabbles."

"Angelina? Alicia? Katie?"

"No." "No." "No."

"Ginny? Ron?"

"I won't." "I _guess_ not."

"_Ron!?"_

"Okay, I won't tell anyone!"

"Harry?"

Harry felt a pang in his chest as he looked around at the others, who were staring right back at him. On one side, Percy and Hermione were giving him disapproving looks which told him to play it safe, but on the other side, Fred and George were encouraging him with their goading smiles, as if begging him to take the risk. _Play it safe, _he debated, _or take the risk? Play it safe or take the risk? Play it safe or..._

"I'll take the risk. I won't tell McGonagall."

He had done it, and from the exhausted sigh that escaped Percy's lips as well as Fred and George's chuckles, he was definitely going to pay for it. Finally, the red-headed twins turned to Neville, who's grin still hadn't left his face as he hummed _Harry Boy,_ "So, Neville-- Oh, forget it! You'll do anything."

"Wait a minute," Percy cut in, raising his voice once more, "Neville's bloody toasted. He'll do anything. That's not fair to him."

George spoke up, his voice childish, "But that's half the fun, Perce! Think of the things we'll be able to make him do!"

Shaking his head, Percy replied, "I don't think so," before grabbing his wand from his pocket and pointing it at Neville, "_Existo Siccus._"

The effect was instantaneous. The glazed look in the plump third-year's eyes immediately cleared, the flushed glow of his cheeks returning to their normal fairness, the contented demeanor leaving his face, to be replaced by his usual, doe-eyed nervousness. He looked around, and muttered anxiously, "Merlin, what happened? Everything's so hazy."

"Nah, I liked him the way he was before," Fred admitted before taking out his own wand and pointing it at Neville, "_Existo Crapu..."_

"If you pull that stupid Drunkening Charm," Percy interrupted, pointing his wand at his brother, his eyes and voice filled with venom, "I'll go to McGonagall right now and you'll find yourself suspended with fifty points from Gryffindor. If I'm not mistaken, that would considerably lower our chances for the House Cup, so I suggest you desist." There was a dark finality in his voice as he locked eyes with Fred.

"So, the question is," Fred began after a moment of silence, "whether or not you're going to rat us out to McGonagall anyway? You've already heard that the rest of us are in on the game, so are you willing to risk complete loss from the House Cup Championship just because of a little game? Are you going to snitch on all of us?" His lips curled in a very un-Fred-like, devious smirk; he had already known the answer he would receive.

Lowering his wand and sighing, Percy conceded, "Fine, I'll play your game, but only under one condition, okay?"

"Shoot," Fred replied, his fingers forming a very evil pyramid about his lips.

"My condition," the Head Boy began as he looked around at the gathered faces before continuing, "is that whatever happens in this room, stays in this room. I don't need people knowing that their Head Boy was involved in some juvenile game. Is everyone in agreement?"

"On that point," George cut in, as he pulled his wand out from his robes, "everyone take out your wands and point them at me."

The first to retrieve her wand, Katie grinned and muttered, "I'm beginning to like this already." Soon, she was followed by everyone else, even a slightly bewildered Neville and a reluctant Hermione, as the entirety of the room pointed their wands at George Weasley.

"Alright," he said to himself as he waved the shaft in a circular motion, mumbling a spell, "_Coactu veritas audeo... coactu veritas audeo... coactu veritas audeo_..."Ribbons of red and gold, shooting out the end, zoomed around the gathered party, illuminating each awestruck face with the colors of Gryffindor, as the beams were absorbed into each wand. Within moments, the only light in the room was the dying fire and the gaslamps, just as before.

Neville gulped as he spoke timidly, "What was that?" He looked down at his wand, fearing that it may explode without warning. That, of course, being a likely conclusion to anything Fred and George did.

George flashed a wicked grin that rivalled his twin's as he revealed, "Just a simple spell that will force you to do whatever dare you're given or answer whatever question you receive, as well as keeping anything said or done here between us. Ingenious, actually, but I have a feeling it would prove useful for Percy and Ron." Immediately, the two said Weasleys bowed their heads, their ears shining a brilliant red. "And now, the Veritaserum. If you will, Fred."

Ron piped up, "Wait a minute! If you just charmed us all, how come we need to drink that too? Won't you get your answers anyway?"

George returned, "The spell means that you'll give an answer. The Veritaserum will make sure it's the truth!"

Taking the small dropper-cap of the top of the vial, Fred released one drop on his tongue before passing it George, who did likewise before passing to Oliver. Continuing around the circle of Gryffindor's, the final person to receive the vial of truth serum was Percy, who eyed the glass as if it were full of a toxic poison.

"Oh, come on, Perce," Ginny prodded, finally speaking up to her older brother, "If Hermione and Ron can do it, you can!"

With a sickly grin, he yanked the cap off the vial and poured one drop onto his tongue before closing his mouth once more, smacking his lips as he passed the glass to Fred, muttering, "Here's hoping I don't regret tonight."

"Don't worry about it, Percy," Oliver said as he grabbed an empty bottle of butterbeer and layed it on the floor between all of the participants. Settling back in his seat, he looked around before asking, "Who should go first?"

A silence echoed throughout the room as the students looked at each other once again, curious as to who the first victim would be. In the end, Fred spoke up, "I'll go first." Getting onto the floor and crawling over to the bottle, he grabbed it and gave it a sharp spin, the rapidly rotating glass sending moving reflections of the dying fire across the walls and the assembled faces. Finally, as it slowed down and stopped, eyes looked up to find that the bottle had landed on Ginny, who grinned widely as Fred asked, "Okay, sis. Truth or dare?"

TO BE CONTINUED...


End file.
